Gideon forced himself to push the resisting Gareth away.

Whirling, he leaned his forehead aginst the gazebo and struggled to control his breathing. Willing his erection to subside, he strained to hear the newcomers. Had they been seen?

"Gideon!"

He turned his head and frowned. "Shh. Do you want them to see us?"

Gareth's lips twisted. "Who?"

"I heard someone." With shaking hands he retrieved his cheroot case and lit two more smokes. He placed one between his lips and inhaled deeply, then handed the other to a scowling Gareth. "Here."

"I do not indulge."

"Tonight you do, damn you. They're coming this way and we need a reason to be out here, so far from the house." A reason that wouldn't get them exiled or imprisoned or hanged, that is. God he was such a coward. A sick feeling at being caught in the act made the normally pleasant taste of his cheroot rancid. He cast a furtive glance at Gareth, would he give away what they were doing out of sheer spite?

Grimacing with distaste, Gareth took the cheroot between his lips. A thin stream of blue smoke curled between them, but it couldn't block the fury in Gareth's eyes, or the tension that clung thickly to them.

"There'd better be someone out there." Gareth grated when no further sounds were heard.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Gideon straightened and stepped forward. He was almost grateful for the anger at the slur.

Gareth cast him a scathing glance. "It would not be the first time you lied to me."

The truth in that statement shamed him, but he couldn't give ground. His anger was misdirected, he knew it. He should never have come away from the ballroom with Gareth, should never have let Gareth lay hands on him. "I take that as an affront to my honor."

"Honor be damned."